What Dreams May Come
by Zamelot
Summary: All they wanted was to be together forever, yet something as simple as that could never be attained. So very close, yet so very far apart. It was his goal to bring them back together, even at the cost of his own sanity. [hold]


Based off the movie. I don't own the movie What Dreams May Come nor do I own the Rurouni Kenshin characters.

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It was raining. It always seemed to be raining lately. The pearl gray sky overhead, the great black and purple clouds moving in… He had no idea where he was, but he knew there was grief and death surrounding him. Kaoru stood not too far away, dressed in a black mourning kimono. Her face was left in the shadows, except for her left cheek up to the middle of her chin—and her eyes… her eyes which burned with such a fierce passion, so bright they seemed to give off a light of their own. He sensed for some reason that he was the cause of her suffering… when was he never? 

Misao stood beside his wife, also in mourning dress with her heavy braid down her back and her belly big with a baby. She was expected some time in August, or so Aoshi told him when they last met. Misao had a comforting arm around Kaoru's shoulders and was whispering gently in her ear.

Kenshin sighed. It was his turn to comfort her. As he began to walk toward her he couldn't help but notice how no one spared him a glance. Misao had stepped away from Kaoru and was now wrapped up carefully in Aoshi's arms and coat. It looked strange to see someone as small as her carrying something half her size. He could remember when Kaoru was that big with their son, Kenji. She hobbled when she walked and often nagged at him in the evening because she couldn't get comfortable enough to fall asleep.

Before he knew it, he found himself standing beside her, watching as she gazed motionlessly at the funeral pyre stretched out before her. He tuned to watch as the flames, covered by the rain, licked and overrode each other and slowly crumbled what it burned to ash and cinders. After a moment or so, he lost interest and returned his attention back to Kaoru. He lifted his hand from his side and reached to wrap her into his embrace when—

"Don't touch her, Himura,"

Startled, he drew away and whirled around. A man, tall and lean with a mask covering his face stood several feet away. Kenshin paused, taking a step forward, and looking around. The man had his head turned away and was watching Aoshi help Misao up the steps and onto the porch to shield themselves from the rain.

Still skeptical, Kenshin called out softly to the man: "Hannya?"

The man turned, his bright eyes twinkling from behind his mask. He reached out his long arm and clamped Kenshin gently down on the shoulder.

"How long has it been already? Ten years…twenty years…. a century? I've lost count,"

Kenshin stared at the long deceased ninja in utter disbelief. He glanced around a few more times to see if anyone saw them. They all went about their business without a glance. He felt strangely trapped in a timeless bubble where the world outside went too fast for him to see. He pressed both his hands to his chest and looked up at Hannya once more to make sure he wasn't going senile.

"…. Aren't you… dead?"

Hannya's eyes sparkled again. Beneath that mask, Kenshin was sure he was smiling. "And what about you?" Kenshin laughed lightly to himself and began to back away. Hannya's eyes darkened. He moved toward Kenshin. "Who's funeral do you think this is?" he called out, his tone steady and serious.

Kenshin shook his head to clear his thoughts and blinked his eyes. He began backing up. "Kaoru!" he shouted urgently. He turned his back on Hannya and raced to his wife ready to envelop her in his embrace and force this horrible nightmare away.

"Don't, Himura!" Startled once again, Kenshin stopped and turned back around. Hannya held an arm out toward him and shook his head. "Take my word for it… and don't try to confirm it… you died."

Kenshin gazed back at the funeral pyre and stared. The flames rose up and engulfed the remaining ashes. Below that, the embers glowed and crackled, eating up the slowly growing flames. He approached Kaoru, ignoring Hannya's protests, and wrapped his arms around her—only to sink through her and land on his knees on the soggy ground.

He kneeled there, his eyes fixed on his burning corpse, the ground muddy and deep. He wasn't wet, he realized numbly. Hannya's words came back to him:

"You died,"

Kenshin doubled over. The memories of tuberculosis, the long voyage home, and his irresistible desire to glimpse her face all returned back to him with a force as if someone had run him through. Tears blurred his vision as he turned around to look at her. How ironic; he couldn't even see her clearly in death.

* * *

Confused? Yes! I have reached my goal! It was meant to be wierd. The movie was wierd. If you've seen the movie, you know what I'm talking about. It reminded me of K/K recently, and I decided to write something based off it. How was my first attemp at K/K? 


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